


Nightfall

by Space_Dementia



Category: Being Human
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Ghosts, Nightmares, Wet Dream, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Dementia/pseuds/Space_Dementia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember that thing that Mitchell said he did that Annie didn't know about?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightfall

He liked being the warm one of the two.

Then times when he tried to comfort her he would subtly stroke the pad of his thumb across her pulse point, twice, purely out of habit. It was cold and unmoving, and the observation made him grip her wrist just a little tighter. She made him tingle.

"I can feel your heat moving into me," she said in an amazed voice, staring down at their connected hands. He felt pieces of himself separate and drift into her.

"Careful, I don't have much to spare," he said, pulling his hand away from hers and rubbing it against his thigh. Her lips pressed together in a slightly injured smile and she leaned back into the couch.

"How about a cup?"

Her smile was real this time and it reflected it on his own face.

"All right, Mitchell." And then she was up and off, happiest when she was doing something.

*

  
He could feel her in the night, wandering the halls, making her ghost sounds: the little sighs, the rattle of tea cups against saucers. The time was the witching hour and Annie felt different every night.

He shifted under the covers, because he could feel her and he dreamed of her.

Alive.

In his dreams he knew her before; when she was warm with life. She laughed and blushed and grew brown beneath the sun. She jumped, wore her hair up and smelled like honeysuckle. Her heart sang as she raced up and down pavements, sucking in air as she went.

Her bare skin would be hot against his hand as her heart leaped furiously in its cage. She would be sweet with the sun in her skin. He could smell it. He could taste it when the skin broke beneath his teeth and she wouldn't cry out, because he would be delivering her.

He would

( _drink deeply_ )

get to her before Owen.

He would

( _feel her go in his arms_ )

  
save her.

*

  
Mitchell awoke with a start, sitting up among his sweat soaked sheets. He breathed deeply, running a hand through sodden hair. A strained grunt escaped his lips as he shifted and the covers pulled over a sizable extension in the linen. He let his hand hover above it, holding his breath even though he didn't need to.

A shadow passed by the window above his door and he moved his hand to the sheets, twisting his fist in it. The shadow stayed for a breath and then moved down the hallway.

Mitchell pushed his palms over to grasp the edge of the mattress. He closed his eyes and laid achingly still, stiff as a corpse, until the sun greeted him in the morning.

More often than not his morning showers were cold.


End file.
